


closer

by jessamoo



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:44:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessamoo/pseuds/jessamoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be then, when he had walked away, too tired after journeys, that a firm but gentle gloved hand would slowly squeeze her shoulder reassuringly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	closer

Their battles over good and evil became stories, fables for the children of the court. When an ambassador or the like bowed on shaking knees in front of The Mother Confessor, she could see in their eyes – every man replayed the stories in his head, of what she could do with her daggers, with her power and hands.

She would keep her mask however. Of course, nothing fazed Kahlan Amnell, and especially not here, in her rightful place, Aydindril, her safety. Her ancient kingdom. This was a place that had been ruled for eternities by the daughters of the daughters of the first Confessors. This was hers, it was supposed to be.

This fact gave her comfort. Because, whilst for other people, battles and struggles were distant memories – it was not so for those who had fought them. Richard, who had so often talked of the day when they could live here together, was gone more than ever. His fighting, his need to save everyone, was something she had once admired and loved about him. But when it meant she was here on her own, with matters of state and country folk, it vexed her; hurt her that he would leave. Whenever he did return, she knew how he could not help but compare his battles in the world to hers on the throne. He did not say it out loud, but she was a seeker of truth in a way too, and she knew.

It would be then, when he had walked away, too tired after journeys, that a firm but gentle gloved hand would slowly squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. 

Cara, when she did this, never looked at her or said a word before following Richard. But this single gesture brought Kahlan more comfort than anything of late. Cara, who rarely showed any emotion deeper than mild annoyance, had come up with a way of telling her she was not alone. When she felt her hand on her shoulder, Kahlan wanted to grab it to her face, to stop Cara from walking out the door – she wanted to return the gesture, to show the Mord Sith how she needed her presence.

Because she realised, she did. She had gotten used to her being there. Guarding the throne in council meetings, Kahlan heard the creak of leather every so often and would turn to glance with a hidden smirk at the blonde woman. When Kahlan passed her on the corridor, Cara would fall into step with her without saying a word, and it felt infinitely natural to both of them that she should do this. As she was bonded, Kahlan thought at first this protectiveness had been ordered of Cara by Richard. It became apparent as months went on however that Cara would probably have done it all anyway. She took to standing watch outside Kahlan’s chambers on the coldest nights – despite there being hundreds of guards that could have done this. Kahlan would here her from inside sharply ordering the guards to sleep whilst she watched, with an air of superiority, and the confessor would smile into her pillows and sleep better for knowing she was close.

“Would you like me...to stay closer to you, Confessor?”

Cara stood almost motionless, staring at the floor as each syllable came out slow, and meaningful. Kahlan had been sighing, listless and sad, not having any news of her fighting soldier husband, and she had been so lonely. Cara had stood watching her in silence throughout her quiet bemoaning of absentees. Of being alone. This was when Cara had asked her question quietly into the room. Kahlan had expected her say something about feelings meaning weakness and being pathetic – Kahlan had started thinking this herself lately – but instead it was Cara who had accepted everything she didn’t want to feel herself, who was offering to share the burden of emotion with her.

One stiff nod from Kahlan was all it took, Cara returned the nod in silence – they did not even speak as the lay down next to each other. Cara stayed in her leather, like it was a second skin that never bothered her. It didn’t bother Kahlan any more either – she had gotten used to this aspect of the Mord Sith too. The leather no longer seemed rough or frightening, it didn’t mean danger to her, and it just meant that Cara was there. In her nightclothes, Kahlan at first felt nervous, and tugged at them self consciously, moving around instead of sleeping. Cara sighed and grabbed Kahlan’s hands to stop her fussing. She kept hold of them all through the night, when Kahlan woke up their hands were still entwined. When Cara left, Kahlan felt her absence in her fingertips.

Just like she had gotten used to having Cara in her home, she had gotten used to her in her bed. She came every night. They didn’t do anything but sleep at first, but sometimes they would talk – or rather Kahlan would, and Cara would ignore her questions. Eventually it grew, as these things always do, into their togetherness being just that – they were irrevocably together in their hearts, and they made love in the dark, Kahlan fell into her familiar touch in a tumult of need, of happiness, that she would later become guilty over when the morning came, and the guards stared at her puffy eyed appearance, and Richard would come back with a smile.

 

When he did return, and slept in her bed, it was all wrong. He was too heavy, too much muscle, to large for the space Cara had occupied. His breathing was too heavy and she couldn’t sleep. She would stare at the door, hoping Cara stood out there, but not knowing. She couldn’t know, when Richard invaded again, and Cara became distant and cold. Kahlan would doubt her commitment, Cara never seemed remotely bothered when Richard clasped Kahlan’s hands or kissed her – she would just look away, her expression unchanged. Perhaps her training served her well in these situations, just like Kahlan’s did.

She believed their training in hiding their emotions worked, anyway. This is why she was so shocked when one day she jumped, as Richard slammed his hand down on the table. 

He didn’t look at her in fury though; she was surprised to see a strange, distant kind of sadness in his eyes.

“Do you want to be with me, or her?”

Her heart constricted in panic. She couldn’t work out whether she was panicked at loosing him however or that once she did, she might loose Cara too.

“Richard I-“

“It’s OK, Kahlan. Don’t bother lying. Your not the only one that can read truth on peoples faces.” His voice was firm but thankfully not unkind. It dripped a kind of weariness however, as if lying to each other was something he couldn’t do anymore.

“I want you to be happy. I wanted you to be happy with me, but you aren’t. You don’t smile at me any more...you smile at Cara.”

Kahlan wanted to protest again, but it got lost. There was no point any more. He knew. She knew.

“She...I have...grown accustomed to her. I want her near me. I missed you when you were in another place...but I feel that I miss her when she is outside my room, I miss her even when she’s close. When she isn’t right next to me, do you...understand?” Kahlan looked at him pleadingly and relief flooded over her when he nodded.

They reached an agreement. To be married, officially, was better for their two kingdoms. Lord Rahl and the mother confessor became an alliance no one would dare cross, at least for a while. This meant he did not need to be in Aydindril all the time. They would be married by name, not in reality. He would give her and Cara months, perhaps even more than a year each time, if he could. She and Cara could be together as they once were; they could be free within their castle – because that’s what it was, really.

As she watched Richard leave, Kahlan stood in the dusk, the long night before their new days together. She had wrapped her arms around herself, until a familiar creak of leather behind her made her smile. She didn’t turn, but let Cara stand next to her, the familiar body pressing against her side, as she took her hand.

Just like everything else, she could become used to this, too.


End file.
